Sweetie
by unbrokensaviorwithperfecthair
Summary: Emma accidentally calls Henry 'sweetie', embarrassing him in front of the rest of their family. Swan Believer fluff.


This takes place during the 6 weeks between the 4A finale and the 4B premiere. The Queens of Darkness haven't shown up yet, and things are calm and stable.

* * *

It had slipped out so naturally Emma hadn't even realize she'd said it –but Henry did. He'd been on his way out the door to meet Grace for hot cocoa at Granny's, but then he'd stopped short and turned around.

"_Everything okay, kid?"_

"_You called me 'sweetie'," Henry said, wrinkling his nose in confusion and… not quite disgust, but… disdain? No, that wasn't right, either. Whatever the reason, he didn't appreciate being called 'sweetie' in front of his grandparents and Killian._

"I… no I didn't," Emma herself shook her head, not believing it. She didn't do the whole 'pet names' thing. Hell, the only pet name she'd ever given _anyone_ was him –kid– and it was a normal, non-embarrassing one for the both of them.

"Yeah, you did," Henry rolled his eyes and finished exiting the apartment. Though he didn't slam the door for baby Neal's sake, Emma could still tell that he was angry.

"Henry, come on," she sighed and followed him. The three other adults simply shared an amused look. None of them could deny that there was never a dull moment in the Charming household between Snow and David's sleep deprivation, Henry's raging hormones, and Emma's general grumpiness. "Kid, where'd you go?" The blonde said to herself as she tried to figure out if her son had darted onto the floor's shared deck or if he'd left the complex altogether. Acting on maternal instinct, she found him leaning against the wooden railing on the deck. She sidled up next to him and followed his gaze out across the town and let the silence envelope them. "You're going to be late to meet Grace," she said quietly after a few moments.

"I already told her I'll be a little late," the teenager replied. The wind whipped around them, sending a shiver down Emma's spine. She tucked a lock of gold behind her ear and said,

"Look, I know neither one of us is particularly good at the whole talking thing, but I'll always be here to listen, okay?" When she was met with nothing but more silence, she mentally cursed those damn mood-inducing hormones rampaging through Henry's body. "So… I'm gonna leave you here to get un-mad, then I'll drive you to Granny's so you won't be any later." After she was a few steps away, Henry piped up,

"I'm not mad."

"What are you, then?" She asked as she made her way back to her spot.

"I'm not sure," he replied. Keeping his eyes focused on the busy town below them, he continued, "When I was little, Mom never really talked about her feelings. Even before Gramma gave me the book and I knew who everyone was, we just never talked about stuff. I mean, she was warm and loving and gave me whatever I wanted, but we never had any _real_ conversations. I remember being really little and falling down, and her kissing the cuts better. Even after I started calling her the Evil Queen, she never talked about it, only denied it. And I knew it hurt her… maybe that's why I did it. I guess maybe, even after all I was doing to hurt her, she didn't want me to feel guilty. And now, with everything that's happened with Robin, she hasn't really said a whole lot to me. And then there's you. When I found you, I mean, no offense, but you were as closed off as it gets. In my fake memories of being raised by you, I don't remember us ever really talking… maybe because Mom and I didn't, and she used her own experiences with me to create our fake ones. And you've been more open since then, but only really with Killian. I know you and Mom do your best with me –and you both have been the best moms anyone could ever ask for– but I'm not entirely sure I've grasped emotions all that well. I mean, don't worry, I can label 'happy' and 'sad' and 'mad', but as for talking about it? Nope. And maybe it's for the better, because heroes–"

"Are human beings with feelings," Emma said, effectively cutting off whatever train of thought he'd been on. "It isn't a bad thing, it's… it's…. God, I'd just tell you to go talk to your grandparents cause they're so much better at this, but it's important to me that you don't end up like me, so I have to be the one to talk to you about this."

"Don't end up like you? I'd _love_ to be like you," Henry finally turned to face her, an expression of disbelief and admiration painted across his features. "That's all I've wanted since I knocked on your door in Boston and saw you for the first time."

"Oh, Kid…" she sighed with a hint of a moan, "you don't wanna be me. I believe we started this conversation at your castle three years ago, so–"

"No, that was different. I told you my life sucked, and even though I didn't believe you at the time, I believe you now. I know it didn't. I can see that now, and I can see that yours really _did_ suck."

"Henry, I gave you up for a reason–"

"To give me my best chance."

"Well, yeah, for that. Because you're best chance wasn't with me. I had no money, nobody to help me with a baby –assuming I even was able to get custody of you. You would've been two months old by the time I got out. You would've been in foster care for those two months, and for a while after that, too, while I got cleared by the state. Who knows how long that would've taken. You know how I feel about the foster system… I was avoiding that at all costs for you. I knew the younger you were, the more likely you would be to get adopted. So… besides the fact that it wouldn't have been a good, stable life for you if you'd stayed with me, I couldn't risk not getting custody of you and you ending up in the foster system until you aged out. It was… really complicated, to say the least. And as much as I wanted you, I mean… even if I got custody of you and I won the lottery and we had a million dollars, I wouldn't know the first thing about actually raising a child. It's one thing to feed it and change its diapers, but it's a whole other thing to teach them about how to be good people. In my life, at that point, I'd met only a handful of people who were actually good. Everyone else had screwed me over. I knew what not to do, what not to teach, but I wouldn't know what _to_ teach you. Hell, I'm not even sure I'd know how to comfort you when you were said or got hurt, since no one ever did that for me. I just… my biggest fear, with you, was always that you'd end up like me. Whether it was from being raised by me or from the foster system, I just… I don't want that for you. I don't want you to be so scared of getting hurt that you push everyone away from you. I don't want you to feel like you have to be alone."

Henry pondered this for a moment, then said,

"Yeah, but you're better now. You smile at other people besides me, you care about Killian and you love Gramma and Grampa and Neal."

"That's not the point," she said with a sigh.

"Then what's the point?"

"That I shouldn't have had to be the way I was in the first place. And you should _never_ have to be that way. Look, I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of Killian and my parents. It just kind of… slipped out. Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are. I've never called anyone that–"

"Not even Dad?"

"No, not your dad. I'm your mom, and I love you, and I guess that's what happens. I kinda feel like a real mom now," she laughed.

"You've always been my real mom," Henry threw himself at her and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him.

"Biology doesn't–"

"No, I mean, you've always done what's best for me. You've always put me before you… your happiness, your physical wellbeing. It's never been a question for you, you've just done it. Being a mom doesn't mean knowing how much Tylenol to give or any of that stuff. It's loving your kid unconditionally and doing what's best for them. Just cause Mom raised me, it doesn't mean you're not my mom, too. I'm sorry I got upset at you for calling me 'sweetie', it's just… I don't remember anyone ever calling me that. I guess I didn't really know how to react.

"It's okay," she smiled, "it happens to me, too. _This_ is why I had to give you up. It should be natural for you to hear someone call you 'sweetie'. It shouldn't send you into a panic."

"I think I like 'kid' better," he said as he took a step back. "I don't want you guys to think of me as a little kid anymore."

"Henry, you're thirteen for Christ's sake, relax. Someday you're going to be a grown up, and you're going to wish you were a kid again. You're not that old, so stop trying to be an adult." Henry started to protest, but she held up a hand. "I'm being serious, Henry. I know I've been pretty lenient with you. I've been the 'fun' parent. And yes, things have calmed down here, but that doesn't mean you can be out doing whatever you want. It's still dangerous."

"So teach me how to fight," Henry said.

"What?"

"If you're not comfortable with me growing up because we live in Storybrooke and a lot of people apparently hate our family, then teach me how to protect myself so you don't have to worry."

"It doesn't work like that," Emma replied, shaking her head. "I'm your mom, I'm always going to worry about you."

"Yeah, but don't you think Gram and Gramps worry less about you cause you're, you know, a total badass."

"I'm sure they always worry about me. I'm their daughter. It's just different, because I'm thirty three and you're thirteen. They can't stop me from doing what I want, and I have a _lot_ of real-world experience –experience that you don't have yet. Someday you will, and you can boss your kids around."

"Mom, you don't understand. When you almost got rid of your powers, I overheard Gram and Gramps talking. Gram wasn't sure if they should've tried to talk to you about the whole thing, and Gramps said that you're tough, you'll be fine. They don't feel like they have to protect you from everything because of that, and I'm telling you, you don't need to protect me from everything."

"Henry, they… that… Look, I have years of self-defense training. Snow and David are both very skilled with swords and whatever else they decide to use. Regina's an expert with magic. You don't. That's not to say I'm not open to exposing you to those things, but… I _do_ have to worry about you. You're my kid, and as much as you think you're growing up, you still don't have the experience that we all do. That's the way it's supposed to be, so don't worry. You'll be a grown up before you know it, so just embrace the way you are now."

"But I wanna be a hero like you guys."

"You already are," she smiled. "You are _so_ smart and brave. You're the most optimistic person I've ever met… well, maybe second to my parents. Being a hero doesn't mean kicking ass and that stuff. It's about doing the right thing. It's about being a good person. And you are... _sweetie_," she winked.

"_Mom_," Henry whined. She gave him a playful nudge to the door.

"Come on, you have a date to get to."

"_Stop_."

"Hey, if my parents get to tease me with bad jokes and my dating life, then I get to do that to you."


End file.
